Oswald: Happy Birthday, Dad
by AquaMermaid6
Summary: Told from Oswald's point of view. It is the first year since Oswald and his family regained their hearts and departed Wasteland. However, soon a day comes that is difficult for both brothers, especially Oswald: December 5th. Their dad's birthday.


**Happy Birthday, Dad**

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><p>Difficult.<p>

That is what this day has been.

Difficult.

We went to pay our respects to Dad earlier today; Mickey, the kids, and I. After that was all said and done, we headed back home to Disneyland. I was still clutching the present I had been carrying around all day.

At first, I thought I was going to set it down when we went to pay our respects, but something stopped me. A feeling. Perhaps intuition? I don't know, but something didn't feel right about it. Leaving it there outside, exposed to the elements, wild creatures, and who knows what else. Instead, I decided to hold onto it until we got back home. This probably seemed strange, but the others silently understood.

We soon headed back to Disneyland. As we entered the park, I told Mickey and the kids that there was something I needed to do and that I would catch up with them later. They agreed and I promised to be back in a little while. Before leaving, my brother turned to me and put his hand on my shoulder.

"Take all the time you need," He said, an understanding look in his eyes.

"Thanks," I replied, giving a small nod.

After that, we headed our separate ways for the time being. I wasn't even sure where I was going at first, but my feet sure seemed to know the way. Guess that's why they're called "lucky," heh heh.

Now I find myself in front of the old firehouse building. Why am I here? I think I already know, but I'm not sure. I walk up to the door and unlock it with one of the keys on the key ring that I take out of my pocket. Then I turn the knob and push the door open and head inside Dad's apartment.

After I shut the door behind me, I glance around the empty apartment. In contrast to the the rest of the park, it is completely silent in here. Not a sound. Dead silent. But yet... peaceful, in a way.

Warm, safe, welcoming, home; these are all words that come to mind as I stand here, slowly breathing in the slightly chilly air, taking it all in.

Suddenly, my feet begin moving again, leading me down the hall to a closed door. I know where I'm going now, and though I don't have an explanation for it, it feels right.

I soon come to a stop in front of the closed door. Then I take a deep breath, and grab the doorknob and push the door open.

It feels slightly cooler in the office than it does in the other rooms of the apartment. Probably because the door was shut... but wouldn't that make it warmer in here? The air conditioning must've been left on. ...But I could've sworn Mick said that they don't turn the air conditioning on in here, since no one stays here and it would be a waste of money.

I glance around the office. Everything looks, for the most part, undisturbed. As if someone left on a very long vacation and never came back. There is a bit of dust on everything, but not too much, since they have someone come in and clean every once in a while.

Oh right, what I am here for. After all those tears earlier today, I guess I'm not feeling or thinking much anymore, in order to suppress the pain. I head over to the desk, which still has the chair sitting behind it. I can picture him in it, even though I was never here before to actually see him there. I stop in front of the desk and gaze at the empty chair, then take a deep breath.

"I-I don't know if you're here or not, Dad," My shaky voice cuts through the silence, "But I made this for you, and I hope you'll like it."

I feel the all-too-familiar tears coming on already as I place the rectangular-shaped present on the desk. It isn't anything much, just a framed picture of me and my brother. I made the frame myself, and carved little trains into it. I hadn't bothered to wrap it, for obvious reasons, but I put a bow on the top edge of the frame to make it at least look like a present.

"I-I th-thought you might want a p-p-picture of us... You know, s-since you've n-never had one before..."

The tears are pouring down my cheeks now and I can't stop them. I thought I had used up my supply of tears this morning, but apparently, I was wrong.

"H-Happy Birthday, Dad..."

Tears continue to pour down my cheeks. This is starting to become pathetic of me. I should just get this over with and leave before I put myself through anymore pain. So I wipe my tears away, turn, and head for the door.

As I'm reaching for the doorknob, something stops me. I feel something. Warmth. A hand on my shoulder. Then, a voice.

"Oswald."

I freeze where I am, my arm still halfway in the air, wide-eyed, too shocked to even move or speak. After a silence that seems to last forever, I somehow manage to get a single word out.

"D-Dad...?" I speak in complete and utter disbelief. Could it be possible? Or am I just imagining things?

...No, this is real. I can feel it in my newly regained heart. But I still can hardly believe it.

Finally, after another long moment of silence, I take a deep breath and slowly turn around to find a crouching translucent figure with his hand still on my shoulder. I look up at the familiar face and he gives me a warm smile. I am shocked, surprised, happy, and sad, all at the same time. Despite this, I quickly find myself smiling back, tears once again forming in my eyes, this time, however, out of sheer joy.

"Dad!" I cry out joyfully.

He wraps his arms around me and hugs me close. I hug him back, crying happily, and uncontrollably, as I bury my face in his chest. I don't know how this can be possible, but I couldn't care less.

"I've missed you so much, Dad," I say, tears still rolling down my cheeks.

"I've missed you a lot too, Oswald," He responds.

"Happy Birthday, Dad. Hope you like it."

"Of course, Oswald. I love it. Thank you."

"I'm glad," I say with a smile.

Everything I've gone through the last 83 years of my life, all my pains and worries, all the tragedies I have endured, all of my suffering, seems to fade away in this moment. It feels like nothing has ever changed. We are still family, and always will be.

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><p><strong><em>AN: _**_This is written from Oswald's point of view._

_One thing I did on purpose was have it start in the past tense and then at one point have it change to the present tense. So it's like he's saying what happened earlier and then the core of the story is what he's doing now._

_It's short, but I just felt like writing this. I've been told that I can write pretty good, but I'm not really sure, since I don't really write that often. Writing for me is kind of one of those spur of the moment things, this being one of them. _

_After thinking about how sad a day December 5th is for Oswald and Mickey, it basically made me go crazy (but not literally lol XD) and wanna make a super happy story and make it all better for them, or mostly Oswald, in this case. Plus, I've been meaning to write a story about this for a while now, but it was just bits and pieces and I wasn't able to find a focus for it until now, which ended up being the birthday._

_So.. I tried to make it cute and heartwarming, and I hope it comes across that way. I tried to not make it too sappy. Hope you enjoy it!_

_Also, Happy 110th Birthday to Walt Disney on December 5th!_

_This is also uploaded on my dA account._


End file.
